Someday A Hatchling Must Stretch It's Wings
by Jadeah
Summary: "It was all his fault. He shouldn't have hurt her..." Random fic for the sake of a fic. Decided to make a modern day OC timewarp thing to see the big deal. T for blood, gore, swearing, and some adultish themes that aren't too bad. You have been warned.
1. Prologue

"Sasha! Wait! Where are you going?"

He didn't wait a second running after her, he hurt her. Hurt her not through physical means, but through his words. It was his fault. All his. Now, all Demitri could do was run after her. He could see her slender body push people aside as her tried to get far away from him. But he refused to give up to easily. Then he lost her as she banked down an alleyway. He arrived too late.

There he saw her, laying in a cruppled heap as a man loomed over her, a knife stained crimson. His breathing came hard and pure anger swept over him as he charged at the man before he could pull a killing blow on Sasha, instead he turned and stabbed Demitri in the chest. He gasped, soundless as the scream that would have rose out choked in his throat. He collapsed to the ground as his world faded white as he whispered, "I'm sorry Sasha... I'm so sorry..." Then everything seemed to shatter like glass, everything gone from him.

Why could it not stay that way?

**I know, random fic out of no where that makes no sense. We all incounter stuff like this and we all write it at least once. Well I decided to make a present day OC for once and see what the big deal is. Here's my outcome. What does this have to do with Assassins Creed? Well, you're about to find out.**


	2. I don't mind falling to pieces

All he felt was pain, he could not move because the sensation of his skin and muscle tissue ripping was far too intence for him to handle. Nearby, he heard a whimper, one all too familiar to him. He barely cracked an eye open to see Sasha still in a crippled heap. But a mysterious man loomed over her, a white clad man who concealed his face under a hood. He could not understand the fast yacking sounds which he figured to be Arabic. To him it at least sounded like the guy was trying to cough something up. Not that he understood the language. He never did.

His hand clenched into a fist and he started to crawl forward, only to cry out in pain as he came to the revelation that the knife was still imbedded in his upper ribcage. Choking on his breaths, he suppressed another pained noise from escaping and kept going. But sadly, the man had heard the first one and looked his way. In a matter of moments, he was kicked onto his back, which relieved his chest a little as nothing touched the handle of the knife anymore, and kneeled over him, studying him.

Demitri could see some of the details of his face, the grayish irises to some of the short brown hair to the silvery scar that parted the right corner of his lip (from his view it was left but for the man it was his right). Then the man's gaze came to the blade still stuck in him and appeared a little more sympathetic as opposed to his cool look he had only a second ago. He said something that he could not understand, and so gestured to it instead.

That could mean anything! Either 'do you want me to take this out?' 'can you pull it out?' or 'how'd this happen?' or even 'dude, when you die, can I have it?' He pointed to it and the hooded man nodded. Then he hesitantly nodded, unsure what he should think before the man clutched it's handle.

Now he's no genius, but he knew that pulling a knife from his chest, which was bleeding heavily already, would only make him loose even more blood even faster. Stammering he protested, "No! No! No! Leave it! Get me to a doctor or something! Just leave it for now!"

Apparently the hooded man got the message and drew away from the knife's wooden hilt. Then he gestured to Sasha, a curious look on his face.

"Look, she's... a friend..." Not that he could say she was his girlfriend and more after what had happened. "Please... save her. I don't care what happens to me, but just save her."

The hooded man blinked slowly and stood up again before pacing back to Sasha. Demitri watched as he pressed a cloth to a wound on her stomach then casted him a sorry look before picking her up in his arms and walking away with her. Somehow, his message got through to him and he understood what he wanted. He thanked god men thought so similar that they could understand despite these language barriars.

Soon he closed his eyes again, escaping his throbbing pain again. All he hoped was that where ever Sasha was, she was safe and well cared for.

* * *

><p>He came to when he felt a pair of hands wrap under his arms and begin to drag him. Demitri blinked slowly as he saw the world pass him by slowly before he was set down against a wall. Then his view was obcured by the hooded man, he had returned. Now that he could see better, he reconized it to be night, the air was crisp and the stars shimmered in the black velvet of sky over their heads.<p>

Then man took hold of the knife's handle, but this time Demitri was too far gone to protest. His body was growing numb and his mind beyond his higher thinking. In one swift pull, the blade was removed, and he saw blood stain his gray fleece crimson. But because of all the blood he lost already, he hardly felt more than a slight tug at his chest. Before anything else, a white cloth was then pressed to the wound and a long strip tied around his torso to keep it in place before he was lifted up and thrown over the man's shoulder.

The ground passed him by as he stared carelessly downwards. He caught glimpses of the man's boots as he ran, then he was thrown onto something. Since he could feel a twitch of muscle beneath him, he figured it was some sort of beast of burden. Though he knew not what. Before he could tell, they were moving again, with him slung over the back like a dead animal.

Though Demitri could not keep his vision from fading in and out, he kept trying to keep his thoughts straight. _Who is this man? Why is he helping me and Sasha? Do I trust him? Will I see Sasha again? Is she alright? Is she safe? Did she die?_ He didn't know the answers. So he simply stopped asking himself them.

Soon the creature they were riding on stopped and he was pulled off. Dazed, he found it hard for him to even reconize it to be a horse, which was strange to him because he loved the animals.

It seemed like he was practically thrown upwards, even though he wasn't even removed from the man's shoulder as they ascended from the streets. Then after a few steps, the movement stopped and he imaged the man was taking a moment to think. As if he reached an obsitcle...

He murmered something to him in Arabic, and he distinctly reconized the apology in his tone. Before he knew it, he was falling, then he hit the ground hard. The air gone from his lungs as the sound of cracking filled his ears. But his senses were so far gone... he didn't feel the horrible agony he should have felt. Slowly, he closed his eyes to the sounds of sounds in Arabic, and a soft thud as the hooded man lowered himself in.

_No..._ Demitri thought. _If I somehow survive this, I'm getting things straight with Sasha... and I won't make my mistakes again..._

And then darkness finally laid claim to his body, shutting down his mind and leaving him to listen distantly to the loud thumping of his heart fighting for life.

* * *

><p>Consciousness dared to come to him, and the first thing he found himself feeling was pain of all things. Then he less quickly became aware of his uncomfortably dry throat, the throbbing all throughout his torso, the headach that pulsed against his skull with every beat of his heart, and how difficult it was breathing when white hot agony flared up every time he tried to inhale, resulting in feeling choked.<p>

Distantly, he heard voices, but could not make them out. After shutting his eyes to sigh, and ignoring the pain enough to take in as much air as he could, he opened his eyes to find Sasha standing in the doorway. She slowly made her way across the room, holding her bandaged midsection before sitting on the edge of his bed. She took hold of his hand, stroking her delicate thumb over the back of his wide hand. He noticed how much warmer her fingers were than his, but he could not see how pale his usually decently tanned skin had become.

All he knew was how Sasha looked. He went over every last part of her, from her high and well defined cheekbones, to her long, full eyelashes, to her oval face, and finally to her dark brown and copper streaked hair, loosely curled and falling just around her shoulder blades. One strand in particular hung over her face after escaping from behind her ear, but not important enough to catch her green-streaked-gray gaze that remained focused on him.

He wanted to take in ever last bit of her feathers, admire her beauty at least one last time before he died.

Pulling his hand up shakily from his side, he rose it up to tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear as the tips pinkened. Weakly, he pulled a smile, tasting a sort of metal hinted liquid in his mouth that he assumed was blood. His hand caressed her cheek, and she turned towards the palm to kiss it.

"I'm sorry, Demitri. This is all my fault." She whispered, a tear slipping away to roll down her face. "I never should have ran..."

"No..." He disagreed. "It's mine... I made you run... I never should... should have said that to you... I'm the one whose sorry... truly..."

"You'll make it, Demitri. Please. Don't die." She pleaded, holding onto his hand now. He took a deep uneven breath.

He tried to keep his smile despite his agony, his heart acking by the sight of her crying. "If I do... please... let me die loving you... and knowing that you care..."

She shuttered, "Because I do. And you'll live, so stop telling yourself that you won't."

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, letting his hand fall while he drifted off to the feeling of her stroking his hand with her thumb, and his heart still managing to beat.

* * *

><p>Sasha didn't leave him for one moment. Much to the consern of the man who carried her back here and his friend. What was his name? Altiar? Alty-something? She wasn't sure. But she had started to pick up the language from her constant listening for the past week. She was learning how to pronounce the words so that she may talk to them some time.<p>

All she could be thankful for at the moment, was the facts that she and Demitri were still allowed to stay in this place, and that her time working as a paramedic was finally paying off. Sadly, they apparently didn't have all the things she needed, so she improved. Salt worked well in keeping Demitri's wounds clean, and since he was asleep throughout most of it, he never truly complained. She splinted up the broken arm and did her best to wrap up his chest to keep him from straining the broken ribs further with breathing too deeply. For now, it seemed to work well.

In the other room she heard Altair say, "_Al Mualim will not like hearing about these strangers_."

"_And whose fault is that? you brought them here_!" His friend argued.

With a sigh, she took the bucket of water from the floor and poured some into Demitri's mouth, forcing him to swallow the liquid. He coughed a little and some of the liquid, deluted with some blood, dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Sasha whipped it away with her sleeve, thinking about what was with these people.

Since they had not allowed her to leave the building, she was stuck consitering the options. Was she in another country? How could she have gotten there? All she knew was that she was stabbed and suddenly found herself here. It was strange.

Her thoughts were broken by a quiet knock on the door, and she turned her gaze up at the hooded man who dropped her boyfriend on stone floor and gave him the bulk of his internal injuries. "_How is he_?"

"_'He' is fine_." She responded curtly, turning away from him.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged it off as he said, "_You don't need to be so bitter towards me. I saved you after all_."

"_And then dropped my... friend... on the stone floor_." She retorted.

"_I didn't come in here to argue with you_." He stated. "_All I was going to inform you of was that we will be taking you and your 'friend' to Masayf in two days. If your friend isn't able to move by then, then it might be best to end his misery_."

She sat there stiffly, dwelling on those last words. Kill him? She couldn't do that. He needed her. She could save him. She refused to give up on Demitri. Silently, she sent a prayer for him to get better.


	3. Check that he is sleeping

Altair shuffled back into the main room to fall onto a pillow and sit. Meanwhile, Malik was leaning against the desk, toying with a quill, and looked up at him while the bureau leader did the same. Both appeared curious as to how the conversation went.

"That woman is stubborn." Altair grunted, resting his chin on his fist and elbow on his knee. And he and Malik needed to get back to Masyaf. But what would be the point in leaving those two out to die in the streets? Altair had found them and took the girl, who was of more consern to the man. Then returned after being nagged by Malik. Unfortunately, Malik had left to preform his assignment by the time he returned, so he was out of options on how to get the man down into the bureau. Or he liked to tell himself. In honesty, he didn't know if it was due to exhaustion, or down right soreness that made him drop the man down to the unforgiving bureau floor.

The main reason that guy was still in such bad condition, he figured, was because of his own unwise choice. If only he put up for a little while longer, then he could avoid the angry glares from that woman, and the guilt that ate away at him. Looking back up, he noted Malik's consern still there plain as day on his face.

After a minute of silence, his friend broke it. "At least we will be on our way back to Masayf soon." He then pushed away from the desk and started for the room that Altair had just come from.

He narrowed his eyes, "If you plan to talk to her, then I must recommend you keep your sword ready. She isn't so friendly towards us.

"She isn't friendly towards you." The bureau leader corrected, not passing a glance up from his book. "Let us see if this woman's mood changes talking to another."

"Dabir, the day that woman doesn't give any of us blood thirsty looks is the day I'll apologize for dropping that man onto the bureau floor."

To this, the older shook his head. "You should have done that regardless."

Malik smirked and opened the door to see the woman.

* * *

><p>Sasha pressed a damp cloth to Demitri's forehead, earning a small sigh from the semi-conscious person. She still held onto his hand, rubbing her thumb in small circles over his knuckles. A few tiems he would enclose his fingers to hold onto hers, just a slight squeeze to assure the both of them that the other was there. Still with them.<p>

When the door opened again, she snapped her head up to look over her shoulder, her hair whipping back from her shoulder and causing a few loose strans to fall in front of her eyes that she pushed away. She remembered when Demitri did the same a couple days ago. And now she only had two days to heal him before she would, apparently, have to kill him.

But this was not that Altair man, no. This other was darker skinned, and his eyes a warm dark brown. He pulled back his hood upon entry, showing black hair instead of brown. And that scar that was on Altair did not appear on him above all else. This was his friend.

Now she was not very trusting, despite her usually social behavior. It sometimes took a year to get the point where Sasha would relax around someone. But either Altair or his friend had that. She saw them as responcible for Demitri's condition. A stab wound, maybe not, but the shattered wrist and fractured ribs were above all their fault.

"_What do you want_?" She questioned coldly.

This man's serious look soon softened a little, then he leaned against the wall. "_Please, you don't need to be so hostile around me. I'm not as bullheaded as Altair_."

She huffed a little and turned back to Demitri, looking over his broken shape just laying there. It was so much unlike his energetic and lovable demeanor. Just that thought made her think back to how they used to try and compare each other to animals. Sasha was always a mother hawk, and Demitri a border collie.

She felt the man put a hand on her shoulder as he asked, "_What did Altair say that has you so angry_?"

Her hand tightened it's grip around Demitri's for a moment before she forced herself to ease. "_He said that if Demitri wasn't able to be moved by the end of two days, then I should kill him_."

It took an extra moment for the Arab to answer, she caught a shocked look from the corner of her eye. So he didn't know about it? Maybe she shouldn't be so harsh towards him.

"_I'll speak with him about this matter_." The man finally told her. Then he seated himself beside her, by Demitri's calfs. "_I also came in here to see how you and Demitri were doing_."

Sasha rolled her eyes, knowing that the guy wouldn't see it because he was behind her. "_I'm fine. But I'm worried that if we try to move Demitri then it might leave him in more a critical condition. It might make his ribs worse, or tear the stitches and cause him to bleed out. One wrong move and it could cause his already cracked ribs to break completely and maybe, if we aren't lucky, rupture something_."

"_I see_." The man responded calmly. "_And you know this_?"

She nodded. "_I work at a hospital where I come from_."

"_So you're a doctor_?" She could just see the puzzled look. "_That's very strange, isn't it_?"

"_And what do you mean by that_?" Sasha shot back without raising her voice. "_It's not like women can't heal a person. Why do you act like it's so odd_?"

He shrugged. "_Women aren't usually looked upon for much more than bearing children. But I have seen some who know some very simple forms of medicine. Mostly it's the men who know these things. If where you come from is different, then I'm sorry if I offended you_."

To that, she chuckled, much to the man's confusion. "_You know you don't need to be so formal. I don't hate you. I just hate Altair_."

He visibly eased, and nodded. "_So where do you come from_?"

"_America. The United States_." Sasha answered, fiddling with the bandages on Demitri's chest.

That brought confusion upon the Arab, and Sasha casted him a questioning look for his lacking the knowledge to know where America was. She crossed her arms and stared.

"_You have no clue what America is_?"

"_No_." He answered curtly.

"_It's the big fucking landmass to the West_!" She exclaimed. "_How do you miss it_?"

"_But that's Europe_!" He answered. "_Any further West and you'd fall off the face of the Earth_!"

Did Sasha need any more clues to understand what was going on? No, not really. If her memories of history class were correct, then by what this guy just told her would mean that she was in a time period that wasn't her own. Hastily she questioned, "_What year is it_?"

"_1189, why do you ask_?" He knitted his eyebrows together as he stared.

The shock she felt was like being hit by a freight train. She let her face fall to her hands as she tried to sort out her racing thoughts. None of them easily pushed away. That's why he didn't know about North or South America... it wasn't discovered yet. Well Vikings aside.

"_I'm not from this time..._" She told him quietly. "_I come from 2012_."

"_What_?" This really made the guy bathled. "_That's- that's impossible_!"

"_No. It's not_." She answered lowly. "_I thought it was, but here I am. And I think you can tell by what I said that I'm not from the twelve hundreds._"

"_Alright, so let's say you are_," He speculated. "_Do you have anything on you to prove this_?"

She looked down at her clothes, her dark jeans and her bone sweatshirt should have been proof enough. And since it was too hot out, she had removed the sweatshirt and was sitting there in a white tank top. "_Do clothes count_?"

"_I suppose_." He sighed. "_But is there anything else_?"

She fished around her pockets until she found her ipod touch. Quickly she selected the first song she found and kept her ear buds unplugged so that the music played outloud. To this, the man was absolutely stunned.

"_Okay, okay_!" He told her quickly, and she turned off her device and stowed it away again. "_You've got me convinced. So you both are from 2012_?"

"_Yes, we are_." Sasha answered. "_The last thing I remember though is being stabbed in the stomach and Demitri taking that same knife to the chest. I think that man was wearing some black robes... but I'm not sure_."

"_This is very strange indeed_." He sighed. "_I'll need to think about this_." And so he stood from the bed, and walked towards the door. Before he left, he turned back and said in a joking sort of way, "_Thank you for not tearing my head off,_...?"

"_Sasha_." She finished. "_My name is Sasha_."

"_And you may call me Malik_." He replied. "_I'll come back later if you need anything, Sasha_."

With that, he left her to herself while she continued to change the bandages on Demitri. She kept herself slow and steady, trying not to be too hasty. But she could tell by the light streaming through the window slowly turning a sort of gold that the sun was setting. She had to make sure Demitri was ready to go the day after tomorrow.

She stood up, listening to her joints crack, and took a pillow and pulled her sweatshirt back on to fight off the cooling air. After she took an extra blanket from the corner, she accomidated herself on the floor, worried that if she shared a bed with her boyfriend, she might roll on top of him and further injury him.

After that, she lit a lanturn and put it down on the table by Demitri's bed, then sat on the floor, listening to her music. She stared at the stone floor, keeping an earbud out to listen in case her "patient" woke up and would need anything. But he was quiet besides his slow, shallow breathing and fretful groans from restless dreams.

**Yup, now Sasha knows Malik's name and vis versa. And they now know that Sasha was sent back in time. It's strange. I know. And things are about to get stranger. Tell me what you guys thinks via reviews and I'll bring you the next chapter.**


	4. Breathe the breath of life

He hid himself away, far from where his pain could find him. He would be able to shield himself in the dark. All alone. Safe. No one could ever reach him there. No one could ever hurt him...

Sometimes he would dream, though it was too agonizing to face sometimes. He saw things. Sasha's throat being slit. Him falling to his death. And a dark man hiding away in the shadows. Everything seemed in black and white to him. Everything except for the blood he would see fly from Sasha's opened wounds, glistening in the light.

Never had he felt his body grow this warm. It was unnatural. It was... frightening. Though he never experienced true fear, he never even felt the true pain he suffered from now. He wanted to run away from it, follow long buried instincts to choose between fight or flight. Save his own life was all that mattered anymore to him. The fear that he would find himself grow cold and be bathed in white kept his heart beating, his mind functioning to an extent, and himself breathing. It kept him fighting a battle he worried that he might not win.

Sometimes he would grow conscious enough to see a figure loom over him, feel a small pressure to his hand that he would return. He needed to know it was real. That he still was remotely sane, even though it was clear most of reasoning had fled from him.

But usually he found himself sinking into darkness, numb and unfeeling towards the world. His senses dulled and mind a bog of blistful confusion...

* * *

><p>Sasha sighed as she inspected the stab wound. Deep, but thankfully had missed anything too important. She hadn't closed it right away at first because she had suspitions that it was infected, and had been using salt to disinfect it since it was the only thing on hand. After a day or so, she had closed it, but she was sure that moving too much would surely reopen it.<p>

After cleaning it with some salt water, she rewrapped his chest and made sure it was just tight enough so he would still be able to breath without bothering his ribcage too much. The sight of the black thread holding together reddened skin didn't make her flinch as much as it used to at the start of her career. Where she once actually fainted at the sight of an infected shotgun wound to a patient's thigh. This wasn't as bad in terms of appearence, but the internal injuries were what put Demitri in a worse condition than the other victim.

She laid her hand across his forehead, and shook her head when she found a fever had settled in, causing his internal temperature to sky rocket and small beads of sweat to slowly drip down from his widows peak hairline. Whipping the droplets of sweat from her hand, she took a damp cloth and put it over his forehead, hoping to cool him down a little.

When Malik came in with a wooden bowl, she wasn't very surprised. In fact, she didn't even look up to him, knowing he'd understand the fact that she was both busy and stressed. If Demitri wasn't able to be moved by tomorrow morning, then Altair had made his point that he should be killed. Not only did Sasha not want to kill her boyfriend, she also didn't want that bastard to be right.

"_I thought you might be starved in here_." Malik said, breaking the silence. When she didn't answer, he stepped closer. "_Are you okay, Sasha_?"

"_I'm not hungry..._" She mumbled. It was a lie. Her stomach was in pain from her skipping meals to take care of Demitri. Despite that and her faintness, she felt like she could last. That she'd be fine.

Malik came closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "_I know you're worried for him, but there's nothing else you can do for him. It's probably best you stop neglecting your own needs_."

"_But I-_"

Malik didn't let her finish. "_Please, what use will you be if you kill yourself_?" His voice softened a little. "_It's late, Sasha. I think it might be best for you if you just leave Demitri to rest for now. Maybe, just maybe, he might be well enough to move_."

Casting, Demitri another sad look, she remained quiet. Unsure how to respond to Malik. He had a very good point.

"_I didn't come here to lecture you_." Malik sighed, placing the bowl on the table and turning towards the door. "_But if you're not going to go to sleep for yourself, then do it for Demitri_." And he left.

Staring at the bowl again, her stomach growled lowly, to which she grasped it. _Fine... Malik wants me to eat and rest... it couldn't hurt, right?_ She thought. So Sasha stood up from the bedside and picked up the bowl, staring down at the chunky, stew like contents. With no utensils, she shrugged to herself and poured the meal into her mouth like a drink, stopping frequently to chew bits of meat and some form of vegetables. Not that it was awful. Just not the sugary sort of stuff she was used to. What Malik gave her had a sort of salty taste, and some forms of spices put in to add to the blander of the ingrediants. She'd have to ask sometime.

Satified with finishing around half of the bowl, knowing that it was probably best to get used to the feeling of being feed before taking all the food there, she tried to feed Demitri the rest after noticing how he was starting to become thinner. That process took maybe a half an hour. Lucky her, he was just alert enough to respond to what she told him to do and swallow. No need to worry about him choking today. So she just propped him up and held the bowl for him.

After laying him back down and replacing the now empty bowl on the table, she laid down on the floor, curling into the blanket. But sleep didn't fall upon her for what seemed like hours.

Now it wasn't like her to panic, but it was dark when she woke up again; the lanturn probably ran out of oil or wick and flickered out. So she laid still int he darkness, no light from the moon shown through the window, not a sound stirred her eardrums besides Demitri's quiet breathing.

Then footsteps, slowly approaching the room. The person was light on their feet, hardly even producing a sound when they stepped down. When the footfalls stopped in front of her door, she pretended to be asleep. The door opened, allowing a weak flame from a lanturn to provide a little better conditions for seeing, and in stepped Malik. The flickering orange glow danced across his features as he stepped near silently to the center of the room. He looked at her, not thinking she was awake since her eyes were only partly cracked open. He then turned towards the table and left her line of sight. A moment later, he returned to it with the empty wooden bowl in hand as he left the room, casting a last glance towards her. And a small smile that she could have sworn she imagined.

* * *

><p>He found himself coming to with a pounding headache and stiff soreness. The room was lit with early morning light filtering through the window and causing dust in the air to shine. Sitting up in spite of the pain, he held a hand to his head, trying to ease the throb. After a while, he pushed his black bangs out of his opal blue eyes and looked around the room. At the other side of the room, Sasha was curled under a blanket, sleeping softly as her side rose in syncronization to her breathing. He felt a smile spread across his face, the most he remembered of the last few days was a lot of Sasha tending to him when he couldn't. She deserved the sleep.<p>

Demitri then swung his legs over the side and planted his feet on the floor. Now he took a moment to look himself over. He was still in his carpender jeans, but above that he was naked. His chest was tightly wrapped in bandages, and at some spot just off center it buldged a little where a thicker bunch was folded and held in place. His left wrist was also tightly wrapped up, with two boards of wood acting as a splint on both sides of his forearm. He tried to turn his wrist around, but it hurt too much, the best he could say was that he could still move his fingers.

There also came the realization that he felt cold even though he was sweating. His face was probably flushed, as far as he could guess. To solve the problem, he looked down at the bed, grabbed the blanket and held it with the fingers of his broken arm. It did little to help him, but it was better than nothing.

After that, he then tried to stand up, finding it hard since his knees were weak and threatened to cave in. He locked them and stiffly shuffled over to Sasha, finding it hard to keep his balance. When he reached her, he let himself collapse to his knees, then sat on his heels as he leaned to touch Sasha's shoulder.

When he did, she shot up immediantly, blinked in confusion and then wrung her arms around his neck. There was some sort of relief there that he sensed, was far greater than he would know. Regardless, he wrapped his good arm around her, lightly stroking her copper streaked hair. He didn't want her to let go, and so felt disappointment when she pulled back.

"I thought you'd be dead for sure." She told him, appearing on the verge of tears.

He kissed her cheek, figuring that he didn't want to give her a fever like he had. "I thought I'd be dead too. But I'm alive. Thanks to you."

Her expression turned a little more serious. "That man who carried us back, Altair, wanted to kill you if you were unable to be moved by today."

"Then I decided to get on my feet none too soon." He chuckled. Then he sighed. "You know I was serious what I said before, that I was sorry."

"So was I." Sasha swore. After a long silence, they stood up, and she let him lean against her to take some of the weight off. "I've found things out, Demitri. Strange things. I think you'll find it hard to believe me."

"Like?" He casted her a look of curiousity.

She pressed her lips together, then sighed. "It's complicated... but... we're not in our own time or country."

"W-what?"

"We're in the Middle East somewhere." She continued. "In the Crusades."

He didn't respond right away, his mind swimming with questions he couldn't keep up with. "This is... startling... Well, no matter. There must be a way to get back home somehow."

"I don't know." She answered bluntly. "Maybe, or maybe not. Who knows."

"Are you saying we might end up living here?" Demitri asked.

Sasha shrugged. "It's possible."

They stood there in silence, staring at each other. They were trapped there? Demitri wanted to ask how they got there in the first place, but since no one knew, it would be a waste in breath. All he could do was ride out this situation.


	5. You keep moving on

Malik glanced over his shoulder as Altair crossed his arms and glared at the door. He knew the man didn't want to deal the Sasha, but it was better they quit their squabbling before they were on the move. Besides, he was sure that if Demitri was now movable, he wanted it to be Altair who'd get the fact rubbed in his face. But he wasn't sure either. When he came into the room last night, the black haired man was flat out unconscious.

He could hear the bickering already.

Then screaming.

He turned around to find the screaming being Altair as he was chased out of the room by Sasha. When Malik turned and stared at him, seeing Altair frazzled, shocked, and _blushing_, he merely crossed his arms waiting for an explaination.

Altair was quick to compose himself again. "That woman's friend seems to be in much better shape." But he still couldn't hide the down right embarrassment. To this he laughed when he came to realize what had happened.

"How bad was it?" He asked through his laughter.

Altair's face turned deep scarlet now. Then he pointed a finger at the door accusingly as he shouted, "YOU GO SEE FOR YOURSELF!"

Malik shrugged and walked to the door, opened it and found Demitri and Sasha both on the bed laughing like children. He didn't need much more clues as to what was going on, Sasha's sleeveless white shirt, which had rode up to her ribs, was enough. He chuckled.

"Having fun in here, you two?"

Sasha nodded, whipping a tear from her eye. "Yeah, we really freaked Altair out." Then she said louder, "THAT'S FOR SAYING I SHOULD KILL DEMITRI!"

"BITCH!" Altair responded angrily.

Smiling, Malik shook his head. This would be a long two-day-travel.

A thought then dawned on him, they'd be taking them to _Masayf_! To their _home_! The words of Al Mualim sounded in his mind, _"Do not compromise the Brotherhood."_ Now he was worried, did the Bureau Leader send a message? And if he did, did the Master approve? Did he even get the message? And did he try to send one back?

He left the room and went straight to the groggy Bureau Leader. "Dabir? Did you send a message to Al Mualim?"

Dabir yawned, stretching his spine until he heard it pop. "Did I? Yes, I had. When Altair brought them here."

"And did he respond?"

"Of course he did." Dabir answered in a grunt as was still trying to rid himself of stiffness. "Everything sounded fine by what he wrote. And he also wanted you to bring them to Masayf. I assume there's nothing to worry about."

Malik nodded, feeling much relieved to know he wouldn't get in trouble. Or he hoped he wouldn't.

"Also, you might want to put them in something else." Dabir advised. "I don't think you want to draw too much attention to yourselves. I'm sure there are some spare robes in the back you could give them."

Another nod and Malik left the Bureau Leader to collect his thoughts while he went to the back. Of course, there were some, so he tried to guess the size they might need. Giving up, he grabbed two larger white robes and walked back to the room that they were accomidated in.

They were speaking in their own language when he came in. But when he entered, they quieted and looked up to him. Now he wasn't sure Demitri knew Arabic, so he spoke to Sasha, who did know.

"Here, you might want to put these on and not draw attention to yourselves." He said to them, handing both a robe and pair of trousers.

Sasha took hers and studied it, "Thank you, Malik. But it's a little big, isn't it?"

Malik shrugged, "If you were expecting something that was a perfect fit, then you're sadly mistaken. I don't know what size your clothes are, and I think it's better that way. Just put them on."

Demitri said something which Sasha translated to, "Can we keep our shoes?"

He did a quick once over and shook his head. "Probably not. But don't worry, it's not like everyone here wears shoes." And with that said, he left to so they could get changed.

* * *

><p>There was no awkwardness in changing. It was simple, they go the opposite sides of the room, turn their backs to each other and expect that the other would be mature enough not to sneak a peak. Not that Demitri was the perfect definition of "mature".<p>

He was in the middle of knotting up a bit of the trousers so they wouldn't fall when he glanced over his shoulder to see Sasha doing the same thing. But he knew that because of a lack of bra straps, she was half naked. His gaze went over her shoulder blades and the small of her back, tracing out the curves where her hip came out from the waistline. It was then he realized she was doing the same thing, only looking at the spots of his back where the bandages didn't cover. Both grinned sheepishly and turned away. But he could have sworn he saw her blush.

When he had some confidence that his trousers wouldn't fall on him, he picked up the white robe and looked it over. There was a sort of black cross stitching around the edges of the sleeves and V shaped neckline. Sighing, he pulled it over his head and let the fabric fall down around him, ending at around his knees. It was spacious and the neckline was a little big, making one side slip towards the edge of his broad shoulders.

Turning around, he saw that Sasha was staring down at herself. The robes on her came down about the same place, but the oversized neckline showed more on her than Demitri. One side slipped off her shoulder entirely and came to hang against her upper arm, and because of it, a little more of her clevage was noticeable. The sleeves hung down to the last knuckle of her thumbs, and the trousers dragged at her heels.

Demitri chuckled as she tried to fix the neckline, to no avail. Then, after another failed attempt only ended up showing more of her breasts, he came over, taking some of the clean bandages that were left over, and slowly pulled her robe off. She was about to elbow him, but he guessed that at the last second she remembered his fractured ribs and reframed from doing any more damage to them.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, the tips of her ears turning pink.

He kissed her cheek from behind her and purred affectionately, "You don't trust me?"

"Now's not the time or place." She stated as she blushed. "What if Malik or Altair walk in?"

"That's not what I was going to do." He assured. "I'm just trying to help you with your robe situation. I'd rather not have to battle off other men in my condition."

Her cheeks were scarlet now, which he found himself unable to suppress a slight hum of amusement. Finally she sighed, "Alright, what are you going to do?"

"Hold out your arms." He instructed, and she didn't argue the point as she stretched her arms out to her sides. He took the end of the long strip of cloth he held, and placed it down at the center of her back before wrapping it around her a few times. The he wrapped it over the shoulder that kept getting exposed instead of her underarm. After he was satified with his work, he tucked the last bit of cloth under a layer behind her back. "And there you go. Too tight?"

"No, actually." She answered. "Thanks."

With a smile, he pecked her lips. "If you need my help again, just ask."

While he had been wrapping her, her face had returned to her natural medium skin tone. Now his kiss only brought the warm pink back to her cheeks. He chuckled and pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. After that, he handed her the robe that he removed from her a minute ago and let her pull it on. Now the neckline was a little less troubling, so he gathered up the remaining bandages and stowed them away so that he could change the pad of cloth on his chest later.

Now ready, Demitri and Sasha left the room to find Malik waiting at a large desk. Altair was in a roofed courtyard just out the door, and behind the desk was an older man who looked about in his forties.

Malik said something that he couldn't understand, and Sasha nodded. She then told him quietly, "He said that since we're ready, we should be going now." He nodded to show that he had listened. And Malik started out towards the courtyard, causing Altair to stand up.

The Bureau Leader said something to the two men as Malik stood beside Altair. Sasha shrugged and started towards them, and Demitri followed after them, ignoring the soreness he felt. But he was sure his eyes widened to see that the entrance was a hole in the _ceiling_!

"This is where Altair dropped you." Sasha whispered to him. "We need to climb to get in or out."

Demitri gestured to the wall and fountain, "Fine. Ladies first."

Sasha smirked and ran at the wall, grabbing at the top edge of the fountain before looking up. Then she brought her feet closer to her so that they had a place to rest where her hands were. With little room, she tried to reach up, but ended up loosing her balance and started to fall backwards! To quick for Demitri to catch, Malik sprang in to help, and grabbed the front of Sasha's robe; for a moment she was hanging there, feet still on the edge, and arms spread wide in her instinct reaction to flail. After that moment of releif and fear passed, she grabbed Malik's wrist as he pulled her up and out.

Never had Demitri seen the color drain from Sasha's face like that. Not since once day a year or so back in his life when they went to an amusement park and both went on the most insane ride they could find. The damn coaster went in all sorts of rediculous twists and turns, moved at fifthy miles an hour, and even went upside down. Sasha-the-not-so-much-roller-coaster-enthusist nearly passed out when they got off the ride.

Altair said something, followed by a universal 'hurry up or we leave you here' gesture. Swallowing hard, Demitri took a running start, trying to ignore the pain in his chest when he did, and used the edge of the fountain for momentum when he lept up. He didn't get as high as Sasha, and found both feet spread out to get some ground on two spots on the pillars stuck to the wall where it was a little wider than the rest. His hands grasped the small ledge where Sasha had held on, and he inched his way upward dragging himself out of the bureau.

Sasha helped him up, and he grunted in complaint of his throbbing ribs. Then they went down a ladder and were on their way to Masayf.

**Thanks to all you guys who like this fic. And I give you the next chapter! Demitri's gotten a little bit better and they are on their way to Al Mualim. Hmm... why would that old man want to meet them? Who knows. I doubt Dabir mentioned anything about time travel in his message.**


	6. I hope you have the time of your life

The walk through town was relitively quiet. Altair had quickened his pace to put some distance between Demitri and Sasha. Malik kept a little closer, but was surprised when no questions were being asked. He had figured there would be much he had to explain, but the two didn't say a word. He sighed, figuring that if anyone is going to break the silence, it'd probably be him.

"Everything okay back there?" He asked, turning his head enough to see Sasha snapped out of deep thought.

"Huh? Yeah, we're fine." She answered. "We just are looking at everything there is to see."

Malik shrugged. "Not much to see here, just simple people walking about. But nothing special about this place."

"I see." Sasha replied. After a moment and a confused look from Demitri, she asked him, "If you wouldn't mind my asking, but could you maybe help me with teaching Demitri Arabic? I'm not so sure how long we'll be here."

"It's no trouble." He told her. "That is, if you wouldn't mind showing me some of those methods of healing you have."

Sasha smiled calmly, "A fair trade." Again a pause before she asked, "I've heard much talk between you and Altair about some place called Masayaf and a man... Al Mualim? Can you tell me a little more about this place? Or why the guy won't be happy?"

He took a quiet breath. "I know you heard more than you cared to reveal, do not play dumb."

"Then what does it mean?" Sasha questioned.

"Some of these things, Sasha, I cannot explain to you. It would be breaking rules I must follow. It actually was breaking them by bringing you to our Bureau." He explained. "But we are part of a group. Masayaf, as you probably can guess, is our home. And Al Mualim is our leader. He taught us what we know."

She nodded.

"Why not you tell them about how we kill while you're at it, Malik." Altair cut in, tone laced with irritation.

"You kill?" Sasha repeated, staring at them both with a new sort of uncertainty. He swore when he got the chance, Altair's head would be shoved down into the dirt to the point where it wouldn't be found without a shove.

"Yes. We kill, but found good reason." Malik answered, shooting Altair a glare that went on unnoticed.

Once again everyone fell silent. And within another few minutes, they reached the stables. Altair went straight to his horse, a large gray with a dark mane. He took a second to find his own horse, a chestnut with white spots across the side, he untied the reins from the post and put his pack of supplies on the animal's back. But when he glanced back to Sasha and Demitri, they just watched.

"Well, you might as well take a horse," Altair stated flatly. "I don't want you, your friend, or Malik for that matter, sitting behind me and hugging my waist."

Sasha snorted, "You'd like it too much." Before going to a large black mare with a sort of teardrop shaped white patch on it's chest. Malik smirked to himself, knowing that the horse was usually very dependable. She rubbed the horse's neck gently and looked over to the two of them as a silent "is it okay if I ride her?", to which Altair shrugged and Malik nodded.

While Altair was ready, and was staring over his shoulder, waiting for everyone else. Malik hadn't incase either one of the two would need help. But it seemed Demitri understood how to get in the saddle very well, and used his good arm to help Sasha as she seated herself in front of him. Demitri rung his arms around her and took hold of the reins. With them ready, he put his foot in the stirrup and slung himself over the saddle and on his horse's back.

"Can we go now?" Altair asked, impatiently. "Or does someone need to delay us any further?"

Malik rolled his eyes and pressed his foot into the horse's ribs, going forward and infront of Altair. "Whenever you're ready, brother." He replied with a smirk.

* * *

><p>Around midday, Demitri started to notice how hot it actually was. Although his fever had made him believe that the air was friged for a short while, he found himself sweaty and becoming conscious of how chapped his lips were and the possible sunburn on his cheeks and nose. Sasha was lucky, as she hardly ever got sunburnt; he saw her laze around on the hottest of days back home, and she'd leave with an even tan hardly burned (if burnt at all that is).<p>

And being on a horse... it reminded him so much of when he was a child. His parents had owned a ranch and six horses. He still remembered their names, how they came to them. A couple of the more memorable were Dixie and Hemitite. Dixie was an old guy, the kind of big ones you'd see pulling stage coaches. He was as gray as fog and had the temperment of a grandmother to their daughter's child when they're still very young. His dad found him open for adoption and according to records, was taken from his last home because he almost starved. Hemitite was the little colt who was stubborn as a mule and very much a little joker. He was black as night and his coat shined like the mineral that he was named after. One of the horses, Tempress, was given to them pregnant and Hemitite was the little trouble maker that she gave them. Demitri was even there, as a young six year old, when he was born.

"You seem quiet."

His thoughts were broken by Sasha's comment, so as a little pay back, he nuzzled her neck with his chin. "Just was thinking..."

"About?"

"Back when I lived on the ranch with my parents." He told her calmly. "I didn't know I missed the feeling of being in a saddle this much."

"You can enjoy it enough for the both of us," She chuckled. "I'm getting a weggie thanks to this saddle."

He kissed her neck, but didn't avert his eyes from the path they were following- Malik and Altair had gone a little bit ahead-. "Would you rather ride it bareback?"

"I don't know." She answered. "I've only been on a pony at a fair... when I was six."

"Then you're just not used to it is all." Demitri told playfully.

Sasha held onto his hands, which still gripped the reins. "I'll be fine as long as this horse doesn't try knocking us off."

"I doubt it." He assured, then patted the horse's neck with his good hand. "This girl here seems very mellow."

"It's a girl?" She asked, looking back at him.

"Yeah, why?"

"How would you know?"

"While you were talking with your friend, she swished her tail a bit and I saw something." He chuckled.

She almost elbowed him, but restrained herself. "Are you telling me you were staring at horse ass while I was talking to Malik? Pour girl probably feels exposed."

"No, I wasn't staring at horse ass!" He laughed. "I just saw that she had another-!"

"Alright! Alright! Alright! I get it!" Sasha inturrupted, unable to keep a straight face or avoid laughing her heart out while clutching the mare's neck to avoid falling off. "I don't need any details about your _'discovery'_!"

He was glad that they were speaking in English, because Malik and Altair had heard them and paused breifly to stare at them while they came towards them, still laughing hard.

Malik asked them something, which Sasha translated to "What's so funny?"

Sasha ended up explaining Demitri's revelation on their horse's gender, to which he got a strange look from Altair, to them. Malik put a hand to his face, but he couldn't suppress the smile before he covered it, he was strangling a chuckle into a cough.

It was much later, the sun had drawn close to the horizon, when Sasha told him Malik and Altair were consulting each other on stopping for the night. For now, he just stared at the place where the large golden disk slothily dipped into the near flat horizon. The sky was stained cherry, slowly transitioning to deep purple behind them where the first of stars begun to appear, and what pitiful wispy clouds that did hang lazily in the sky were glowing the sun's light, reflecting it just as vividly.

Malik told Sasha something and she pulled back on the reins. Demitri tried to guess what was said, and assuming that since Altair and Malik both stopped as well, it must have been they were planning to set up camp. He watched a little bit longer while Malik got off his horse with Altair following suit. After an extra moment, Sasha slipped off with him right after.

It was a quick and relitively painless set up. Altair got a fire going and they all sat around it, trying to keep warm in the cold desert night air. They picked at a loaf of bread a little as Sasha held a conversation with Malik, which Altair would throw something in that would cause someone to glare at him. He wished he understood what they were saying. But their gestures were simply vague. A gesture to the sky could have meant anything from "back home we didn't even see this many stars" to "where we come from, airplanes could be seen from the ground." So he gave up trying and listened intently to the Arabic words and kept thinking of his grandfather's mucuss issues.

Sometime later, the banter came to a closer, and by that time the moon had made it a quarter of the way through it's arch in the glittering black sky. Altair had already called it in for the night, taking a blanket from his pack and using it as a pillow. Mlaik passed them a couple and took one out for himself before doing the same thing as Altair and rested his head on the folded fabric.

Sasha told him something, to which Malik grunted his responce and waved her off. She then turned and handed Demitri a blanket.

"It's getting cold." He sighed, unfolding the blanket and wrapping it over his shoulders. The fabric was about as thick as pencil, pale green, and warm.

His girlfriend nodded and put her blanket down on the sand before laying her head down on it and curling up in a ball. "We should get some sleep."

He took this as an opprotunity to get closer, it was clear that she wasn't as comfortable as she appeared. So he came in, wrapped his blanket around her as well, and held her close to his body as he nuzzled into her neck, managing to wrestle a deep rumble that sort of resembled a purr.

Sasha sighed, "What are you doing?"

"Getting warm." He stated.

"This better not keep me up all night." She warned.

He chuckled. "It won't."

Soon darkness engulfed his senses, saving him from the cold.

**I'd like to thank my reviewers. And I'm going to spend a little time answering some questions.**

**"Is Sasha a linguist? It would explain how she is able to learn Arabic so quickly. Maybe there's something else at play that will enhance the duo's learning language abilities?"  
><strong>**Is she? Well the answer is yes. In high school she found languages and the meanings in the words fasinating. That and anatomy. So she tried to learn all she could about them, root words and all. Although she hadn't studied Arabic very much, she was able to put pieces together that allowed her to learn the dialect they were speaking. This and also the fact that she's been listening for days and quickly put meaning to the words in use by the situations. That said, it also explains why Demitri hasn't caught onto a lick of Arabic since he arrived. That and he was hardly conscious for five days give or take.**

**"How Demitri managed to get out with one good arm is beyond me, that's some pretty serious skills."  
>Indeed, this is very shocking. It's an amazing combination of him climbing trees since he could reach the branches, and my spacing the broken limb. If you want a more realistic idea of what happened, he still had movement in his fingers (I've had a fracture to the wrist before so I know how this feels) and since the arm was splinted, climbing was hardly effected because all that was bent was his elbows, right wrist, and fingers. - Sasha didn't make it because she's a city chick and wasn't exposed to the farm life that her boyfriend had when he was younger.<strong>

**So yeah, big thanks to Crystalfeathers for these questions. And see you all next chapter.  
>:)<strong>


	7. Just close your eyes, sun is going down

_She was running through a darkness, the only thing that lit her path was a golden light somewhere too far for her to reach. No matter how long she ran, it never seemed any closer. It was never in her grasp..._

_"Get up."_

_She looked back to see a figure behind the light, a silloette against it. Still she didn't stop moving towards it._

_"Come on."_

She was suddenly being shaken by the shoulder.

"_Sasha, we don't have time for you to sleep in like this_." Malik's voice became clear to her, and she blinked tiredly, staring up as sunlight made it harder for her to see him. She held her hand up to the sun and narrowed her eyes to slits. Behind him, Altair was giving his horse some water, and Demitri was getting his pack on their horse.

With a sigh, she stood up. "_Alright, I'm up. So we get to Masyaf today_?"

"_Yeah, we do_." Malik answered with a nod. "_Tonight. Trust me, you'll feel much more comfortable there than where we're standing now_."

"_It'd better be. Or I want my money back_." She chuckled.

Malik only blinked then forced a laugh. "_I'm afraid the humor from your time is lost on me_."

She shrugged. "_Everyone has their own taste in jokes I suppose_."

"_Indeed_."

Altair coughed, rather loudly, into his fist; an obvious sigh meaning "hurry it up". Despite the meaning behind it, Malik gave Altair a challanging smirk and shook his head. With a slight nod Sasha's way, they both walked to their horses, got saddled up, and were back on the trails.

Sasha leaned into Demitri's chest. "So how'd you sleep?"

He shrugged a little. "Fine, I guess. I think it was Altair's night time outbursts that kept me up."

"He was sleep talking?" She turned to look at him. There was a crooked grin there.

"Yeah," He chuckled. "Some shit about 'I'm sorry mom' and a string of 'no don't's, I think. I have no clue what the hell he was even dreaming."

This seemed to settle like a stone for her, and she looked towards Altair guiltily. Maybe that had something to do with his attitude towards them. Did he feel bad about something? She could only wonder. Asking the man could possibly spell death. It would have to wait until, and if, they were ever friends close enough for him to trust her. Then she consitered the chances of that happening and laughed to herself. Pour bastard.

Then she thought about how Demitri was kept up by Altair when she slept soundly. Maybe it had something to do with where they lived. She was so used to loud noises, it all seemed to blur in her mind and lull her to sleep. He wasn't like that. He was used to quiet, the gentle wind whistling outside his window and crickets chirping.

* * *

><p>It seemed like hours later, the sun had crested across the sky and was drawing closer to setting on their second day of travel. Demitri eased his grip on the reins, and whipped sweat from his brow before sighing heavily and leaning forward into Sasha's back.<p>

"Ugh... not now, Demitri... it's hot out..." She grunted before wriggling forward in the saddle. "I'll snuggle when I'm not sweating the water out of my body."

He chuckled and sat upright once more. "Alright, I'll spare you. But only for the time being."

No one had seem it coming, it whizzed past his ear, through Sasha's copper streaked hair, and kept flying until it met it's mark. Malik screamed as the arrow sank into his back before he fell off his horse and into the dirt. To this, Altair turned, pulling his sword out while still on his own gray mount. Sasha slid off their black mare and ran straight for Malik, while Demitri cranned his neck to see a band of six men on horseback coming right at them.

* * *

><p>"There they are!" Demitri exclaimed, Sasha looked back over her shoulder a moment before translating it to Arabic for Altair to understand. The white clad man nodded and charged at their attackers, fighting them off. She didn't watch, she only kneeled down next to Malik as he stayed still in the dirt. Hopefully the arrow hadn't peirced anything vital.<p>

Careful not to hurt him, she gently pulled the arrow out of his back, finding the wound deep, but nothing punctured by the arrow's iron tip. After padding herself down, she took a piece of cloth that was suppose to be used for Demitri's wound, and secured it to the bleeding hole before turning him over.

"_Malik? Malik? Please, answer me_." She urged, gripping his shoulders tightly. When the Arab groaned as responce, she shook him a little, snapping him slightly from his daze. "_Malik_!"

He stared up at her almost like he was drunk, eyes dull and hardly focused. She knew he was probably still trying to process his own thoughts, but she couldn't slow her racing thoughts. She worries for him. Finally he asked slowly, "_What hit me_?"

"_An arrow, you fell off your horse_." Sasha answered him quickly. "_Luckily it didn't damage anything important. It'll just hurt. You'll be alright, just try to get up_."

He nodded a little and backed away from her hands as he sat up, using an arm to support him. When he looked up again, his dark eyes widened. "_Sasha! Behind you_!" He then shoved her to the side as a battle axe came crashing to the ground where she had been a second ago. Malik stayed over her protectively as he drew his sword out. The man he was facing was clearly European, his skin lighter than even Altair's, and some blonde hair poked out from behind his metal helmet. Green eyes met black as they both glared at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

The blonde's impatience got the better of him, and he charged at Malik with his axe in the air. But he was quickly kicked in the stomach, the blow enough to stun him while Malik impaled his neck. The man collapsed to the dirt choking on his own blood, spitting out crimson stained saliva and letting it dribble out of the corners of his mouth. He didn't die right away, he just kept coughing as his blood begun to pool around his neck. Sasha could only watch in horror as the man struggled to breathe, to get air in his lungs instead of his own blood. It was funny how something that should help you live, can end up killing you too.

Malik sighed and sunk the tip of his sword into the man's chest. Into his heart. A quick mercy to end the agony. He then turned to her. "_Are you alright_?"

She was breathing harshly. "_I- I'm fine... thanks_..." She assured as she tried to stand up. How could her knees have gotten so weak?

Altair had stayed on his horse the entire fight, and sheathed his sword. Behind him, five horses were trotting away from the other bodies. "_Probably some more of de Sable's men, we should hurry before he sends more_."

"_What they wanted with us is beyond me_." Malik responded. "_But you're right. We should make hast, Masayf isn't too far now_."

Sasha stared at the body of the blonde, thinking about how she could have been the one dead on the ground. How would Demitri act to it? Would he cry? Or would he grow depressed and commit suicide? She wasn't sure. All she did know was that she was alive, and that guy was dead. Funny how this sort of thing works.

"Sasha, come on." Demitri's voice snapped her from her thoughts, and she looked up to him. He was holding his good hand out to her so he could help her on the horse. She took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up in front of him. Then they were on the move again. Malik and Altair were speaking in hushed tones to each other, probably about their procuers.

Night fell and embraced the desert in a chilled blanket, she shivered slightly and nuzzled in closer to Demitri and his fevered body. He didn't argue, only kept his broken hand on her thigh as the black mare they rode on continued to move at a steady trot.

She soon found herself dozing off to the bounce of their transportation, and watched the world pass her by. For some reason, she felt light headed, warmth had come to her side, warmth and a harsh throbbing pain. Though she hadn't bothered to look. Something about the peace around her kept her from even bothering to look down at the pained side.

"Are you okay, Sasha?" She heard Demitri's voice ask in a concerned tone. Her answer was a light hum.

A hand patted her side, and the horse suddenly stopped as she was pulled from the saddle. Sasha stared up dazily at the sky, and soon Demitri's face as a hand pressed to her throbbing side. He was shouting over his shoulder in what little Arabic he knew.

"_Sasha. She is bleeding_!" He exclaimed.

The vibrations that came from quick paced footfalls were strangly soothing, a small reminder that she was still able to sense the world around her. That she wasn't too far gone.

The hand was removed before being replaced by a cloth and a pair of wider palms. The hand that had been holding the side now took hold of hers, intertwining fingers. She looked up at Demitri distantly before he and Malik attempted to move her. The throb was sudden agony, one that forced a scream from her throat. A near soundless, unnerving scream. She held Demitri's hand a little tighter then before she told them through gritted teeth, "_Stop_... _this isn't helping at all_..."

Demitri appeared desperate now, his fear bubbling to the surface. Making a quick desistion, he told Malik quickly, "_Go_. _I stay here and watch over her_."

Malik shook his head. "_That's probably not a good idea. What if more of de Sable's men come back? You can't defend yourself with a broken wrist and ribs_." Though Demitri didn't seem to understand it all, he got the point. So the Arab continued. "_Go with Altair, get a cart so we can roll her back. I'll stay here and make sure she doesn't die_."

Her boyfriend got up when Malik nodded towards his black mare, and Altair already on his horse. She watched him get on before casting her a worried look and riding away with Altair. When they were got, she felt another cloth added to the other and the hands press a little more into her bleeding side. Sasha sighed, letting her eyes flutter shut.

"_Don't you dare close those eyes_." Malik rumbled.

She didn't answer, only found her breathing slowing down as a relieving numb sensation started to creep in.

One hand pulled away from her side and took her by the chin, angling it up to the sky. "_Come on, Sasha. Stay with me. You're going to be alright_."

Eyes cracked open just enough to see Malik's conserned expression, she chuckled weakly with a dark humor. "_You want to learn my methods of healing? I guess this can be your first lesson... put your hand back on my side, put pressure on the wound_..." Malik obliged and she then asked, "_Why did you stay behind_?"

"_Are you saying you'd rather be with Altair_?" Malik questioned.

"_No_... _But_ _why_?" She pressed.

He sighed quietly, his gaze returning to her side where his fingers still held the thick pad of cloth to it. "_Maybe because I'm too kind_..." She felt her eyelids slowly closing on her as she listened. But Malik was quick to snap her back with a harsh, "_Don't even think about falling asleep_."

After that, her memory failed to record what came next.

**Yup, sorry about the really long delay here. I started writing another fic and got distracted. So here we go, another chapter.**


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